Between Friends by Jenny Harper

an iTunes voucher, or a book, so Emily’s answer was unexpected.
    ‘I’d really, really love to get my hair dyed.’
    ‘Oh? Are you allowed? At school, I mean?’
    ‘Yeah, sure. Everyone does it.’
    ‘And what about your parents? What will they say? Maybe I’d better check with your mum.’
    ‘There’s no need. They’ll be cool.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Certain sure.’
    ‘Okay then,’ Marta agreed reluctantly. ‘So long as it’s something subtle.’
    ‘Ooh thanks, Marta.’
    They tried three hairdressers, but it was a Saturday afternoon and they were all booked out.
    ‘Maybe we’d be best to make an appointment at your usual salon,’ Marta said.
    ‘But I’d really love to get it done today,’ said Emily.
    They walked right along George Street without any luck.
    ‘There’s a place, there!’ Emily said, pointing down a side street.
    ‘We’ll make this the last one then, okay?’ Marta was having second thoughts about the whole idea – but when Emily repeated her plea for an appointment yet again, the receptionist smiled.
    ‘You’re in luck! We’ve just this minute had a cancellation.’
    ‘Great!’ Emily turned to Marta. ‘Why don’t you go and do some shopping of your own? There’s no point in hanging around here just, like, watching.’
    ‘Really? I’m not keen on just leaving you.’
    ‘It’ll take an hour and a half minimum,’ said the receptionist, scratching out a name in her appointments’ book. ‘She’ll be fine with us if you want to leave her. Most mums do.’
    Marta weighed the options rapidly. Emily was going to be sixteen in a few days, she was certainly old enough to be left in a hairdresser’s – and it was ages since she’d had any free time in town to browse the shops.
    ‘Emily? Would that be all right with you? I’ll be back before you know it.’
    ‘Of course!’ Emily’s face was shining with excitement.
    ‘Good. See you soon then. Nothing too drastic. Promise?’
    ‘Promise.’
    Marta was back in under the hour and a half. She looked round the salon, but couldn’t spot Emily anywhere. There was a middle-aged woman whose hair was completely hidden by dozens of folded tinfoil packets, and another whose gray locks had been crisply cut close to her scalp. In the far corner, a younger woman was getting a blow dry. Her hair was peroxide blonde. Six inches at the ends had been dyed a vivid purple.
    The things, Marta thought, the young think are smart these days.
    ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’
    Emily’s voice floated across the room. From somewhere near the corner.
    What the...?
    ‘ Emily ?’ Marta gasped, the horror of the transformation sinking in. She strode across the salon. ‘You promised not to do anything drastic!’
    Emily shrugged. ‘There was this girl just leaving and she’d gone for this kind of look. It was so cool. A proper statement. And Kylie said she could do mine like that, didn’t you, Kylie?’
    The stylist avoided Marta’s horrified gaze. ‘It’ll wash out in a few weeks,’ she said, switching off the dryer and smoothing down the multi-coloured locks with a final flourish of the brush. ‘There, all finished now.’
    She picked up a mirror and showed Emily the back of her head.
    ‘Wicked,’ Emily said.
    What on earth, Marta thought, was she going to say to Jane?

Chapter Thirteen
    With the Festival in full swing, Tartan Ribbon Tours was at its busiest. There were currently twenty-three groups in Scotland: six out on tour in the west, south, east, far north-west and the Islands, the rest in Edinburgh itself. Most were American, though there were a number from various parts of Europe and two from Japan. Some of the Edinburgh-based groups were self-supporting – they had tickets pre-booked for their events, they were staying on a half-board basis, they had been thoroughly briefed about places to see and visit. All Marta had to do was to sort out the occasional problem that landed on her desk or, to be more accurate, that fell